


Together

by orphan_account



Category: Oasis (Band), Rock Music RPF
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I tried so hard, and I don't even care any more.(This fic was written by lonelyisourlife @ livejournal in 2012 and is archived here as a courtesy to readers)





	Together

The funny thing was that Noel had been dreaming about him that night.

It wasn't something that occurred very often, dreaming of Liam, but it was something he was familiar with. The dreams usually never varied from a standard format of Liam walks in, Liam says some very Liam-like things, and Liam walks out. It was easy, routine. Hardly enjoyable, but hardly unbearable.

It was not routine, though, to see his dreams manifested on his doorstep. But three years after he'd sworn off letting the kid up here again, he'd stood behind a window and said nothing as he'd watched him come up the walkway. Then he'd opened the door like it was nothing too.

It was his weekend off. He wasn't back on tour for another week, and Sara had taken the kids up to her mother's until Monday. Three days of peace, quiet, perhaps some soul searching... and then Liam was there. Of course Liam was there.

The kid had been piss drunk, unable to even walk from the cab to the door in a straight line. He'd banged his fist on the door until Noel had opened up, and then he'd made a swing for his face. It had been pathetic at best. He'd collapsed on the step in near tears and begged to be let in. Nic and I had a fight, he'd said. I don't know what to do, he'd said. I just need you, he'd said.

His weekend off. His weekend off.

But it was his brother. Though Noel supposed using that excuse to invite him in was mistake number one.

“I want to go swimming.”

At this point, Liam had been back in his life all of twelve hours, and Noel was already being painfully reminded if why he'd written him out of it in the first place. The kid still didn't know what the words 'no' and 'go home' meant.

Mistake number two was making mistake number one.

“If you want to talk, or whatever, you can phone. But you have to leave, now.”

“Why do you have a fucking pool if you can't even swim?”

Liam was laughing as he peered out of Noel's living room window, crouched on the couch like a small child. Any sense of drunken melancholy he'd had last night was gone by now, replaced with a perpetual bounciness. It was making Noel rather vexed.

“And you changed your number. Twice.”

“I'll give you the new one.”

“No, three times.” Liam turned around, bored with the view. “Let's have it, then.” He held out his hand.

“Have what?” Noel pinched the bridge of his nose, digging his bare toes into the carpet as if it would channel all his frustration away.

“Your phone, you tool,” Liam literally sprang off the couch, his hand diving into the pocket of Noel's pyjama trousers. They were dark blue and two sizes too big, and they sagged under the pressure of Liam's arm. Noel shoved at him.

“Just gather your things. You're not even dressed, for Christ's sake.” He gestured to Liam's current shirtless state.

“You don't have any swimmin' trunks, do you?” Liam wandered out of the room, his feet clunking up the stairs, “Can I wear one of your missus' bikinis?”

“No.” Noel ran around to the stairs, anxious at the thought of Liam rummaging through all his things. Unfortunately, by the time he got to the bedroom, the singer's head was already invisible inside a large drawer.

“Liam.”

The younger brother made a little 'aha' noise as he lifted up some old gym shorts, apparently deciding that they were suitable enough. Then he glanced at himself in the vanity mirror before undoing the button of his wrinkled trousers, dragging them down his legs and glancing to Noel for something that looked like approval.

“Liam, Jesus fucking--”

Noel had to close his eyes, blindly shooting a hand out in front of him to try and get a grab on Liam. The details are not important and of too great a number to list, he found himself thinking with grim amusement. Just know that it was mostly because he tried to put on a strip show at eight in the morning on my day off, he added.

“Come on, baby, you've seen it all before.”

Noel's relatively funny thoughts ceased because he didn't much like that comment.

In fact, the one thing he'd been trying to avoid this whole time was that comment.

He referred to the situation the comment had been referring to as It. The same It where he'd said something along the lines of “this is wrong” and believed it all the way up until Liam had convinced him otherwise, the same It that had ruined their relationship the last time, and the same It he was never, ever, ever going to allow anyone, himself or Liam, to mention ever again.

“Liam!” Noel did open his eyes, seeing that the singer was thankfully covered by the shorts now. He reached out and steadied Liam by his shoulders.

“Settle the fuck down, all right? You can go for a swim before you leave. Please. Just settle down.”

Liam smiled and reached his own hand up to tousle Noel's hair. The older man wrinkled his nose. He figured he'd just made mistake number three.

However, under the circumstances they were doing a pretty convincing job of acting like... well, like normal brothers. And it was because of this and only this that Noel found that he could shove down the anxieties he had about being in the same room as the kid. At least for a bit, he figured. At least long enough to satisfy Liam, he hoped.

“Come swimming with me, aren't you?” Liam asked, lowering his hand.

“I can't swim. No.” Noel was absolute in his sentiments.

Yet five minutes later he found himself sitting by the poolside – now fully clothed, he hadn't budged there, no way he was getting in that water – like a lifeguard watching over an unattended child as Liam splashed around in the water.

“Come in,” Liam suggested as he leaned back on the far wall, “S'not cold or nothing.”

“I can't swim,” Noel replied, curling his toes in the water.

“It's not that fucking hard. You can learn. Just like this.”

Liam launched himself off the wall, making a show of doing the doggy paddle across the pool until he was directly in front of his brother.

“No thanks.”

“Come on,” Liam said, a childish look crossing his face when Noel shook his head.

“Liam--”

He'd hardly started his sentence when Liam reached up and grabbed his arms, taking the relaxed and unsuspecting muscles there as leeway to tug on them and bring Noel crashing down into the water facefirst, right on top of his brother. The songwriter struggled against the sudden lack of oxygen – eyes wide open as the unfamiliar chlorine scratched at them, limbs flailing about. When he surfaced, Liam was a few inches away, looking placid; Noel carried on thrashing about, cursing and perhaps trying to enclose his fingers around his brother's neck if he could manage it.

“It's a metre deep, Noely,” Liam said solemnly.

Noel slowly stopped thrashing about as he stood up straight, liquid anticlimactically rising up to only just below his stomach. He then saw that Liam was actually on his knees, his chin just above the water.

Noel rubbed at his eyes to try and rid them of the sting. “Don't call me that.”

“Noely?” Liam smiled, standing up straight himself. He shook his hair out, splattering droplets of water all around, and stepped closer to Noel until he had him cornered against the pool wall, arms on either side of him.

“Yeah, that.”

“I could've pulled you in the deep end,” Liam said, his smile erupting into an errant grin, “Would've had to rescue you.”

“You forget that this is my house, and you're a fucking guest.”

Liam paused thoughtfully. “You forget that I'm your fucking brother.”

He then, nearly contrary to his statement, and quite contrary to the songwriter's expectations for the day, kissed Noel.

Or, rather, all but greedily forced his tongue between the songwriter's lips, hands moving to grip at bare shoulders instead. And as much as Noel wanted to shove him away and dunk his head under the water until he drowned, the shock got to him and he allowed himself to kiss back for a few moments. Lucky mistake number four.

He eventually did shove Liam away, though, getting a jolt of satisfaction as he watched his brother's surprised face disappear under the water for a quick second. Liam resurfaced and spluttered a bit, wiping his face off and eyeing Noel.

“Like it rough, d'ya?”

“Do you want to feel something fucking rough?”

Noel made an attempt to grab at Liam, but the singer just laughed, disappearing underwater yet again and coming back up across the pool where it was far too deep for Noel to even consider venturing into. His smile would've been visible from even miles away though; he made a point of widening it as he climbed out of the pool, grabbing a nearby towel and draping it around his shoulders.

“I'm hungry,” he said, searching around for his flip-flops, “Come make me lunch.”

“Don't trail water in the house,” Noel warned as Liam neared the screen door, wading over towards the pool steps himself, “Liam—listen to me, hey--”

The screen door slammed shut before he could get out any sort of lecture, the back end of a soaking wet Liam flicking up two fingers as he plodded around throughout the house. Noel didn't even bother with a sigh.

Unfamiliar with the task of drying himself off after getting in the pool, Noel had to fumble around with the lock on the towel cabinet until he eventually got it open (albeit nearly smacking himself in the face with the door). He then towelled his hair and peeled off his soaking wet shirt, leaving it on an armchair to dry.

It should have been hard to believe that Liam had just pulled him into a pool and sexually assaulted him, but it wasn't. Though the thought of it was making the older brother's stomach churn with something he couldn't quite place.

He didn't realise Liam had returned until he was almost shoved into the pool again, only to be yanked backwards by strong arms that had somehow found their way around his midsection. Noel's hands immediately went to pry them off, but his small stature betrayed him in that respect.

“Liam,” he muttered, trying to twist his head around to get a look at his brother. Liam's hair was sticking out in all directions, still soaked, but the rest of him was dried off. He apparently hadn't bothered to change back into his clothes.

“Yeah, man,” he said thoughtfully, resting his chin on top of Noel's hair.

“Let go.”

“You've fuckin' missed me,” Liam spun Noel around, still holding him tight, “This.”

“Don't flatter yourself.” Noel wiggled to no avail.

“Don't lie.”

There was a pause in which Noel made a tiny, unsatisfied noise, flickering his eyes elsewhere around the deck so that he might avoid his brother's fiery gaze. Oh, how he'd grown out of practise when it came to lying to the kid's face. It was a regrettable side-effect of his aloofness.

“What you pulled in the pool, don't fucking do it again.”

“The bit where I pulled you in?” Liam sounded amused just at the idea of bringing it up again.

“No, but that too,” Noel warned, wrinkling his nose, “I meant the bit where you tried to suck my fucking face off.”

“Oh, that,” Liam murmured in a tone that would've frightened Noel if he didn't know better than to not be frightened by Liam. The singer's lips came down to brush against the tip of Noel's nose.

“Yeah, that.”

“Kissin', it's a two-way thing, y'know?”

“Liam.”

“Shit, I remember before you fucked off, when you--”

“Don't.”

Noel eyed him cautiously. We're not talking about It, his gaze said. Not here, not ever.

Liam paused for a short moment, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I'm gonna stick around, man, right? We might as well have a bit of fun.”

“Not my idea of fun.” Noel's thoughts doubled back and he wondered how long Liam was planning on 'sticking around'.

“You sure?” Liam's hand had somehow slid down where it really shouldn't be, his fingers dancing just underneath the waistband of Noel's soaking wet trousers, “Tell me you're sure.”

“Stop that.” Noel wiggled, but Liam still had a hold on him. He found his eyes drifting down towards the singer's hand, swallowing with every brush from his fingertips. The uneasy feeling in his stomach seemed to multiply.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm fucking sure!” Noel huffed.

Something akin to a chuckle escaped Liam's lips as the singer – thankfully – pulled away. He then pressed a quick peck to his brother's cheek, sauntered back towards the half-open screen door, and slipped inside without a word yet again.

Noel tried to hate him, but it was impossible. He just snorted and slipped off his trousers, following into the house with a towel wrapped around his waist. Tightly wrapped. Liam was in the kitchen, his head stuck in the pantry. Noel kept a fair distance.

“I got you some of your clothes. They're on the couch.”

Again Noel felt unease about Liam going through his things, but was relieved to don the warm, perfectly dry, polo and jeans. It was one of his favourite polos, too. He wondered if somewhere deep down, Liam had known that.

“Are you going to get dressed?” Noel asked, eyeing Liam's shorts.

“Yeah. You've got no lunch.”

“There's pizza in the fridge. I'll heat it up, you go get changed.” He pointed towards the stairs and started towards the fridge, pulling out some neatly-packed Tupperware. When he glanced up again, the kid was gone.

The first true moment to himself for the past day wasn't taken for granted. Noel let out a large sigh, closing his eyes and leaning on the counter. Liam. In his house. Eating his pizza. That was certainly a twist to what should have been a peaceful weekend off.

The microwave seemed loud, but Noel was sure that was just his brain playing tricks on him; making the microwave sound loud so that it would be sure he couldn't hear Liam in the upstairs part of the house. Which left the door open for whatever fantasy Noel could substitute in. Yes, Liam, who he was imagining rummaging through his drawers right now, perhaps staring at himself in the mirror above them again. Practising his speech, seeing how he looked in some of Noel's clothes, maybe wiping some tears from his eyes that had managed to sneak through whatever façade he was putting up right now.

And it was a façade, this happy-dance. Noel was sure that it had to be because the last time he'd seen Liam prior to now, the kid had been on the verge of tears as he smashed a guitar and remarked that Noel had broken up a lot more than their band.

His thoughts then flickered over to the night before all that. A dangerous venture, thinking about It, but he couldn't stop himself. “Everything's going to be all right” the kid had urged. And Noel had believed him. Why had he believed him? Maybe that had been mistake number one.

*

 

“I want to watch a film.”

Liam leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table. He was in the outfit he'd been wearing yesterday, somewhat to Noel's dismay, but at least he was dry. They'd been eating in relative silence.

“A film?”

“Yeah, man. Like, you know, on the TV? Do you know how to use that?” Liam seemed genuinely curious, tilting his head to the side.

“You're a bit manic. You on the drugs again or what?”

“Just you.” Liam's face was solemn, but his eyes danced. He pushed a half-eaten pizza crust around his plate with his opposite index finger.

“What d'ya wanna watch?” he then asked.

“I honestly don't give a fuck.”

“You don't care?” Liam murmured, drifting away into the living room.

Noel almost smiled because watching a film together was almost ordinary. He followed Liam out and saw the title screen for The Notebook on the TV.

“I'm not fucking having that,” he said immediately, taking a seat two cushions down from his brother. Liam looked nonchalant, his eyes on the television screen as he not-so-subtly slid right on over to Noel's side, linking their arms together.

“You said you didn't care.”

“I didn't mean this,” Noel glanced down at the top of Liam's head, which had found its way onto his shoulder. He didn't have the heart or stomach to remove it.

“'s what I want.”

“I don't care.”

“I know.” Liam's eyes were still on the TV. When Noel didn't respond, he spoke up again, “Grab one of your fucking books if you want. Just sit with me.”

“And you're going to watch this all by yourself?”

“Yeah, man.”

Liam finally looked up, his gaze meeting Noel's. His face was expressionless, but his eyes had a certain twinkle to them – devious and playful. With a snort, then, the older brother leaned over to the nearby coffee table, picking up one of several novels that were neatly stacked there just for moments like these. Liam was like Sara in that they both constantly tried to show him things he couldn't possibly give any less of a fuck about.

“There you go,” Liam sounded content as he set his head back on his brother's shoulder, focusing back on the TV. He clicked play.

Noel had half-believed that with the addition of a film to keep him entertained, Liam would have settled down and shut up for at least an hour or two. However, near the end of the film, that belief had been shot down and replaced by the irrefutable fact that the film had actually made Liam talk twice as much.

“She's fucking stupid,” he exclaimed, leaning forward, “Why'd she pick him? She had an all right guy already – better-looking, too.”

“Because they're in love,” Noel muttered, casting his eyes down to his book when Liam glanced up at him.

“She hadn't fuckin' seen him in years, anyway. Get the fuck over it.”

“It's a film, Liam.” Noel couldn't help but laugh at the annoyance etched on his brother's face.

“How'd you even know about it, you weren't watching, right?”

“Well, I know how it goes...”

“You were watching, though.” Liam sat up straighter, poking him in the stomach. Noel recoiled immediately.

“I was reading.”

Liam leaned over and plucked the book from his brother's fingers, holding it as if it was some sort of disgusting contraband. He smiled grimly as he eased it shut, brows raised.

“You've been on the same page for an hour and a half.”

Noel blinked at the fact that Liam had apparently developed very acute observational skills over the past couple of years before he scowled, snatching the book back and tossing it back onto the table, hints of embarrassment showing through in his grimace.

“You're one to talk when you're sat fucking analysing the thing!”

“I'm just saying if they loved each other she would've said 'fuck you' to her mam and ran off with him in the first place.”

“It's not that simple, though,” Noel argued before he realised, with a certain dejection, that... he was arguing about a chick flick.

He quickly grabbed the remote and switched the channel to ESPN, where some baseball game was broadcasting. Despite the fact that he couldn't fucking stand baseball, it made him feel a bit better.

“Fucking wank,” Liam was saying as Noel tried to regain his manhood, uninterested eyes drifting to the TV before back to his brother.

Noel nodded, pretending to be more interested in the TV. He caught Liam smile out of the corner of his eye and then suddenly the kid's face was right next to his; Liam pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek before putting his head back on his shoulder, picking up the remote and boredly flipping through some more channels.

“I think we're a better couple than them two,” he mused as he skimmed past MTV. Noel glanced down at him, not bothering to wipe his cheek out of some irrational fear that it would make Liam lift his head up and never put it back down.

“We're not a couple.”

“If we were.”

“Right,” Noel sighed, leaning his head back into the sofa, “You're the girlfriend, then.”

He was growing rather weary, but the idea was enticing. Liam seemed interested at that, too, looking back up towards Noel.

“Both lads here.”

“One of us has to play the girl, though,” Noel said, eyes shut and a sudden smirk struggling to be concealed, “And that's definitely you.”

“I'm not a girl.”

“Really now?”

“It don't work like that!”

“Pretend it does.”

Noel cracked open his eyelids, pleased to see the familiar half-confused, half-annoyed expression on Liam's face. The younger brother huffed as he settled to put the television on Nickelodeon.

“Fine, all right, I'll be the missus,” he conceded, “Treat me like a queen.”

“I didn't say I was a good fucking boyfriend.”

“Pretend you are,” Liam shot back. They exchanged a competitive glance before Noel chuckled, nodding his head.

“All right.”

“Take me out, buy me flowers, tell me you love me all the time. Or I'll fucking dump you, you cunt.”

“All the time?” Noel questioned sarcastically, “Good boyfriends don't have to do that.”

“Yeah, they fuckin' do.”

“I'm a good husband and I don't do that.”

Liam rolled his eyes, Spongebob reflected in them as he stared at the TV yet again.

“You sure you're a good husband, Noely?” he baited.

“I'm... pretty fucking sure, yeah,” Noel replied, taking a bit of personal offence to the accusing question, against his better judgement. He shook it off, opting to look at the TV as well. He'd never exactly understood what anyone over the age of seven saw in the programme, especially Liam. He'd never exactly understood anything about that one, though.

“You don't love her?”

“That's a stupid fucking question, of course I do,” Noel said, almost rolling his eyes, “I just haven't got to tell her twenty-four-seven. She knows I do.”

“How's she know?”

“Well, we wouldn't have stuck together this long if I didn't!”

Noel found himself staring down at Liam again, trying to read his expressionless face and failing miserably. It was frustrating; that the one person he would've liked to get inside of more than anything was the one that was built like a fucking fortress.

“You can't assume people know that, you know? Sometimes they forget, get caught up in all the other shit.”

“She should know. She does.”

Noel had a feeling they weren't talking about Sara any more.

“Not everyone's a mind reader like you, Chief.”

Liam was biting his bottom lip, peeling off some already dead skin. Noel wanted to reach over and stop him. In all the years he'd known Liam, the kid's whole fucking life, he always seemed to revert back to gnawing on that stupid lip of his; Noel found himself inexplicably annoyed.

“I tell her sometimes. When it's appropriate.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I love you.”

Noel wasn't exactly sure why or, more importantly, how, he'd even managed to say the words. They seemed to surprise Liam as much as they surprised himself. The singer's gaze flickered up towards Noel's face and lingered on his lips, as though he found it hard to believe that they'd just spoken, before casting down to his own lap where he shifted his hands around ever so slightly.

“Well, don't go around saying it if you don't mean it.”

“I mean it.”

“All right, whatever.”

Noel nodded vacantly, lifting his arm that Liam wasn't leaning on and reaching over to touch his face. He slipped his fingers underneath Liam's jaw and turned his head up, all but forcing the singer to look at him. He wasn't sure if this was a mistake.

“Listen, because I won't fucking say it again,” he said, “I love you. I mean it.”

Liam's face was some odd mix of passionate and confused as he chewed on his bottom lip again, holding Noel's gaze for the longest they'd looked at each other in what had to have been years.

He shook his head. Something had shifted in the air.

“Yeah, well,” the taunt in his voice was hollow, “How could you fucking not?”

*

 

“I want to--”

Noel cleared his throat. “You're leaving.”

The mood was darker, maybe because Noel had stopped counting the mistakes. Because he'd decided that there was only one mistake, and that had been Liam's god damn birth.

He stood his ground, bracing himself for impact. He'd been planning this moment since he'd let Liam stay a second night and went on to see Liam wake up a second time. He shouldn't have, really, but Liam had gotten emotional again, begging and pleading and for some reason Noel couldn't say no. Years of ignoring all the kid's advances and now he couldn't say no.

But he wouldn't stay with the singer any longer. It was suffocating, smothering.

And wonderful.

All night he'd thought about the feeling of Liam's lips on his own after so long and realised, with a certain dejection, that it hadn't felt wrong, or awful, or even unpleasant. Instead it had felt like coming home after a long, dragging day out; like settling into a warm bed that was moulded to every contour of his being. It had felt wonderful. And it would just be too easy to fall back into the trap of pretending everything was all right when Liam was being so damn wonderful.

The response was uncharacteristically haphazard.

“Already?”

“I'll get someone to drive you if you want,” Noel was concerned with the fact that Liam was looking perfectly comfortable leaning against the banister as if he was standing in his own fucking backyard. Moreover, he was concerned about the fact that the older brother ostensibly wasn't the only one who's metre had run dry. Liam looked exhausted, and his smile of yesterday was completely absent.

“I didn't come here to be kicked out.”

“Why did you come, then? Because I've really got no fucking idea. You come in here acting like we're best mates, you know? And we're not. Yesterday was like a fucking rehearsed scene and I didn't like it one bit.”

“I'm all right,” Liam replied; face guarded, eyes scanning the deck, “You've got a nice place.”

Noel stared at his brother until Liam turned and stared back.

“How badly do you want me to leave?” he eventually challenged with a wry chuckle, “You gonna make me?”

“Why are you always trying to start something, Liam?”

“Because it seems the only time you give a shit about me is when you have to think about me long enough to make sure I keep your pretty little face intact!”

The outburst was abrupt, almost primal, and quite a departure from the all-smiles attitude Liam had been putting on. Noel actually tried to think of something he'd done that had triggered the change, but nothing came to mind. Mood swings seemed to be a common link between them, anyway.

“Sounds like a personal problem. Perhaps you can leave so that you might whine to someone who gives a fuck.”

Liam looked like he was on the edge of some metaphorical cliff before he swallowed, bringing composure back to his expression, “You don't give a fuck.”

“Is that why you're here? Because I don't give a fuck?”

“Yeah.”

Noel had never thought that one word could sound so miserable. It wiggled on through his exorbitantly built walls for just a moment.

“Okay. What is it, kid? What's wrong?”

It was unusual – asking about what was wrong. Even when they were on better terms, they'd always swept things under the rug because it was all that they knew how to do. Yesterday was an example of that. Noel sighed. He'd almost gotten comfortably used to the 'normal brothers' act.

Liam turned his back again, arms resting on the banister.

“Kid.” Silence. “You can't keep all that bottled up inside, you know. Whatever it is.”

The hypocrisy wasn't lost on either of them. Liam even snorted.

“I can do whatever I want. You're not me fucking dad.”

“Liam.”

“You're not.”

Noel gave up.

“Fine. You can leave.”

“Is that it then? You'll just fucking shove me out the door and go on pretendin' that I don't exist. Is that it?”

Any break Noel had sustained was grazed over; he patched up the hole and replaced it with the hard will to get as far away from Liam as possible.

“That's exactly it! Pretending is what I do best.”

“Okay. Pretend you don't hate me, then. Just for a bit.”

“I don't hate you,” Noel got in as quickly as he could, ignoring the way Liam's face had looked when he'd said the words. They'd likely been meant to make him pause, but the songwriter wasn't having that. Even if it took all the strength he had, he wasn't having that.

“Now you're doing it.” Liam laughed.

“What?”

“Pretending. And, you know, you're right, you are bloody fuckin' top at it.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Then don't fucking lie to me! I saw the way you looked at me when you said you, what, loved me. Like you were sorry for me. Don't feel sorry for me, you fucking dick. Kick me out. Make me leave. Don't pretend to want me around. I try so hard, and I don't even care any more.”

Noel frowned at him. It was just like Liam to over analyse something like that.

“I don't.”

“Yes, you do!” Liam suddenly hissed, his hand getting ahead of his thoughts as it shot out, grabbing Noel by the shirt, “You do.”

“I don't—”

He was cut off as Liam's other hand grabbed another side of his shirt, spinning him around and slamming him up against the balcony railing. The kid had gotten riled up, all right, and he wasn't storming out the door as much as he was looking like he was about to let lose a storm right in Noel's face. The older brother struggled a bit as he tried to shove Liam away.

“You fucking hate me, say it!”

“Let go!”

“Say it!”

“Liam!”

“Say it!”

“I fucking hate you, you dick! You happy with that?” Noel spat out, looking anywhere but his brother. It was a lie.

There was a long, agonising pause where Liam started to chew on his bottom lip again.

“And you miss me.”

“What?”

“You hate me because you miss me. Because you want me. Because you need me.”

Noel blinked.

“And you're so fucking sick, you know?”

Liam's face disappeared from the older brother's peripheral vision then, his voice suddenly close and suddenly whispering into Noel's ear in a familiar way that had caused all their problems in the first place. For a moment Noel was intensely afraid that Liam had somehow, somewhere, sometime learned exactly how to get inside his head. And he didn't like where that intrusion was heading.

“You're so fucking sick 'cause you... you fucked your little brother, man!”

Noel froze.

Of all things to bring up, he had thought that they were both very clear on the number one rule: 'don't talk about It. Don't think about It. I almost destroyed my career and moved halfway across the planet from you so we wouldn't ever have to ever talk about It. We don't talk about It.'

Liam unclasped the fabric of Noel's shirt in favour of splaying out his fingers across his chest. He made an effort of grinding his hips against his brother's.

“That's it, right? Why you can't even look at me? 'Cause you liked it?”

Noel shook his head. They were not talking about This.

“Yeah. You fucked your little brother and you liked it.”

Noel was suddenly, momentarily, furious.

He had been the rational one. 'This is wrong.' Liam was the one that had lied. 'Everything will be all right?' No.

He was the one that had brought them crashing down together, not Noel.

Together. Them, him, Liam, right, wrong, oppressively, explicitly, indefinitely... together. As it were.

_'That's all it is, Noely. You n' me. Together.'_

_'For fucks' sake, Liam! We're not supposed to be together.'_

Liam pulled his head back, his face a couple centimetres away from Noel's and the older brother simply couldn't look away this time. He stared into the swirls of blue before him, expertly picking them apart and hopelessly getting lost inside them all at the same time. He saw something between lust and heartbreak layered underneath.

“Stop pretending. Stop running away.”

Noel stared at him and the kid expelled a breath.

“It's okay if you liked it,” he said, “It's okay because I liked it too.”

Noel thought of running away.

“I liked it,” Liam sounded like he might cry, “I liked us.”

Noel thought of the feeling of their lips being pressed together.

The details are not important and of too great a number to list, he surmised. Then he took a resigned step forward. Just know that it was mostly because our kid was too damn wonderful for his own good.

Liam's hands were instantly on his chest, bunching up the material of his already-wrinkled shirt underneath his palms. He then pushed it up and over Noel's head and tossed it to the ground where it fell in a lump. It was joined by his own a few seconds later.

Then he kissed him.

Noel held onto the singer's waist to keep from stumbling backwards. Liam was aggressive in his movements, steering his brother towards the house as if any moment he could lose him. Noel understood that, but he was sure that he wasn't going anywhere; once in this deep, he couldn't possibly.

The singer's tongue probed at Noel's closed lips, whining and begging, and Noel let it in. He sighed into the contact and let Liam push him up against the screen door. Both of their distracted fingers bumped against each other as they both reached to undo the latch on the door. Noel entertained a passing thought about someone snapping a photograph of them, but didn't care enough to sustain it. Moments ago he would've been worried about just doing this, but he didn't care about that either.

They somehow got into the house, banging against what felt like every piece of furniture before they made it up the stairs and to the bed. Noel's fairly new bed that none of this madness had ever touched, that smelled like his wife's perfume mixed with slightly-dirtied pillowcases and cat hair. And Liam pulled him down onto it like it was any old hotel room. And he didn't care. I tried so hard, and I don't even care any more.

“Noely,” Liam nigh moaned.

Noel kissed him right under his chin, dragging a soft touch down below the band of his trousers. He swiftly undid the zip and they both struggled upward, losing the restraints of the clothing. Then Liam abruptly sat up, Noel in his lap, and clawed at the songwriter's own jeans.

“I miss you.” It was a whisper against Noel's jaw, as desperate as the hands that were against his now-bare thighs.

“I miss you too.”

Both unclothed now, Noel brought their bodies together. Ecstasy was the word. Both their erections were like rocks so Noel immediately lifted himself up, humping against Liam with all the force he had. Then did it again. Again. And again. Liam let out an innocent little gasp as they laid there – skin on skin, mouth on mouth. It was only a few moments before he spoke, while Noel had broken their kiss to suck at his neck.

“Fuck me,” he hissed, clawing at Noel's back, “Please.”

Noel was about to protest when Liam shook his head, gently pushing up against the singer.

“It's there, it's...” Liam breathed heavily, leaning over and grabbing for his estranged jeans. He pulled a little tube from the pocket.

“Why do you--” Noel cut himself off, gaze locking with his brother's. Noel could've killed him for even thinking it, but he didn't want to.

Liam tossed him the tube wordlessly, lying back on the bed. His collarbone stood out against his skin each time he took a breath in and Noel leant down to kiss it before squeezing some of the gel onto his fingers. No, he didn't want to kill him. He never could.

He rubbed his hand up and down his cock and eyed Liam as the kid stared right at his fingers. He was hiding none of his interest; he even propped himself up on his elbows, teeth coming out to chew on his bottom lip per usual.

“Stop,” Noel commented, leaning forward and nipping at the lip himself, “You'll make it sore.”

Liam looked twenty years younger as he smiled, leaning his head back and letting his eyelids flutter shut. Noel kissed him again – it was like he was making up for all this lost time; like once he started up again, he couldn't ever stop – and held up with his arms, positioning himself.

It wasn't very much like the first time they'd done this at all. All the innocence and hesitance was gone and it was pure passion, pure desire, and pure sin. Liam gasped again, much sharper this time, and clenched his fists as Noel pushed all the way inside. Then did it again. Again. And again.

Noel held Liam down by the hips, breathing out a grunt with each thrust as he sped up his pace, watching Liam the whole time. The younger brother was gripping the sheets with white knuckles, his brow creasing each time he was jostled upwards. And he was being loud – louder than Noel remembered him. Moaning and whimpering and muttering things that neither of them could make out.

Noel could stay here forever.

“Oh, fuck, Noel,” Liam moaned, clunking his head back against the headboard. Noel kept his palms on his abdomen, pushing him down into the mattress as he lifted his own hips up and down, up and down.

Liam was chewing on his bottom lip again, so intently that it drew blood. Noel kissed him roughly to make it stop, the metallic taste getting swallowed down his throat. Their tongues slid together and the singer let out another choked moan. This time the noise was quiet; needy. In fact, at that moment, Liam looked and sounded and felt so needy that Noel reverted back to the childish mentality of never, not ever, wanting to let him be alone again.

Their fingers interlaced. They came together, fell together, and stayed together.

*

 

Noel woke up first.

Technically speaking, he wasn't entirely sure that he'd slept at all – certainly didn't feel like it, anyway. His body hurt and his head pounded and as soon as he stood he felt like crumpling right back down But he pounded on, stumbling around the room in a search for something to shield his bare body from the cold morning air.

As he pulled on some boxers, followed by trousers, a t-shirt, and warm socks, he looked down at Liam. The kid was all contorted in the blankets, having, of course, managed to tug them all over to his side of the bed sometime in the middle of the night. The end result was some sort of human cocoon, with only Liam's head sticking out, buried in the pillow, eyes shut and body rising slowly with each breath. There was a noticeable love bite on his neck. He looked the most peaceful Noel had seen him in years.

The songwriter tiptoed around the room so not to wake his brother, gathering strewn clothes and trying to decide which hamper to shove them in to. He eventually came across Liam's jacket, which he set aside with the rest of his clothes that he took downstairs and set on the entry table. He somehow ended up keeping the jacket in his arms.

Standing in front of the mirror in the foyer now, Noel glanced around and behind him before he pulled the jacket over his shoulders, zipping it up. It was much too large for him, the sleeves coming out over his hands and his small torso getting swallowed up by the leather. But it felt nice, safe, and like Liam was suddenly all around him. He thumbed the 'Pretty Green' tag and almost laughed. He was almost about to reach for the matching scarf sitting on the nearby coat rack when a voice startled him.

“You look pretty, Noely.”

Out of sight of the mirror, off to the side, Liam was standing there, leaning against the wall. He was wearing Noel's old, dark blue pyjama bottoms, the ones two sizes too big for him. But they fit Liam perfectly.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Noel questioned before realising what he'd just been doing and who'd caught him doing it. He quickly fumbled with the jacket's zip, undoing it and shrugging it off.

“Bedroom,” Liam taunted, waving his hand when Noel all but shoved the jacket in his face, “And keep it.”

“I don't fucking want it.”

“Shut up.”

Liam smiled, seemingly having slipped back into the amicable mood that he'd been in previously. Noel didn't mind as he managed to offer a half-smirk back, hanging the jacket on the coat rack while trying not to be too obvious about how careful he was going about it. Liam was already wandering towards the kitchen.

“Keep them trousers,” Noel said, if only because he liked the idea of the kid's scent weaving itself into fabric that he himself had worn just the night before.

“Are you hungry?” he went on as Liam did a little dance in his seat at the table, “I can cook, you know.”

“A true rock star.” Liam clicked his tongue. The songwriter ignored the jab, firing up a stove burner and heading to the fridge to grab a couple of eggs.

“Anything for you, princess.”

Liam's amused smirk turned up into a thoughtful grin. He hopped out of the chair and materialised behind Noel, poking at his stomach and kissing the crook of his neck.

“My hero.”

Noel sighed rather dismally at the touch; his hand just barely chafed the egg carton before he gave up, his arm lowering back to his side. Liam reached his fingers over and gently took his hand. Reassuringly, even.

“You have to leave.” Noel spoke softly to make sure that it wouldn't upset Liam too much. He was past the point of pretending that he wanted to upset Liam.

“I know.”

Apparently the kid was past the point of pretending, too. Noel almost smiled at that burst of unusual maturity, but instead turned to face him, their noses touching. Liam's fingers that had been on his hand were now tentatively wrapping around his waist.

“No eggs, then?”

“You can stay for breakfast if you want.” Noel even half-wished that he would, despite that Sara was due back in under an hour by now.

“Nah,” Liam smiled, slipping out of his brother's arms and sauntering over to the table, “Got places to go, things to do, you know.”

“You know,” Noel echoed to himself, following Liam back out into the foyer. He stood off to the side. The kid's eyes drifted to his clothes folded up on the table and he ran his hand over them as if they were from another planet. Then he grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He held the jeans in one hand, keeping Noel's pyjama bottoms on. Noel smiled.

“Clear out your pockets before you wash those,” he said, gesturing to the jeans. Liam raised a brow and wiggled his fingers in several of the pockets, coming out with his tube of jelly. Taped to the side was a white slip of paper with a phone number scrawled on it.

He laughed and it was wonderful.

“Liam.”

The singer was still chuckling as he jammed his feet into his trainers, not bothering to tie them or adjust the tongues.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Noel asked. Liam stopped and looked up at him.

“'bout what?”

“I don't know. Last night, the time before that, the weather. Anything. Anything you want.”

“Huh,” Liam remarked, looking impressed, “That's a first.”

“Building bridges is better than burning them, inn'it? For the environment, I mean. Obviously.”

Liam shrugged. “There's nothing to talk about when you think about it. I guess maybe it's just not talking about not talking about it that makes it go sour, right.”

“I love you, you know?”

Liam seemed to drop whatever he might have been planning to say, grabbing his scarf and leaving his jacket right where it was. Their eyes met and Noel bit his lip thoughtfully. Liam then took his hand from the doorknob and materialised in front of the older brother. He reached a hand out and grazed his fingers over Noel's lips.

“Stop. You'll make it sore,” he said as he replaced Noel's teeth with his own mouth. They didn't kiss, only stood there with their lips just barely touching.

“Mm.”

“Love you too, you know.”

“Yeah, well.” Noel pulled his face back, tucking a strand of Liam's hair behind his ear.

“Well?”

Noel did kiss him then, very briefly. He pulled their foreheads together.

“How could you fucking not?”

There was a pause and they both smiled at the same time.

Privately, intimately, relentlessly... together.


End file.
